


Secret Fire

by Isaac_A_Drake



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), F/M, Fantasy, Not a Harem, Swords & Sorcery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2018-07-18 05:56:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7302139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isaac_A_Drake/pseuds/Isaac_A_Drake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry falls through the Veil and the intrigue of eldritch and draconic gods lands him in Nirn a few years before Ulfric's fated rebellion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aurbis

**Author's Note:**

> Read a couple of these a few years ago and then I recently bootcamped my Laptop and played Skyrim with the Live Another Life mod and made a Harry character and got infused by the desire to write it up, just a little teaser to see if there’s still interest in this kind of crossover

Prologue: Aurbis

If he could string two thoughts together Harry would likely regret going through the Veil after Sirius.

However in this empty void he could not even feel anything, let alone string together two thoughts.

After what felt like an eternity he sensed something else in the Void with him.

An alien presence, a greater presence, a presence that was so immense it managed to make him feel a coherent chill of terror.

The presence's attention turned upon him and he felt great fear than he had ever felt before, even in the face of Voldemort or the dragon or the basilisk.

And then he felt the being's amusement and interest and fascination. And then he felt it focus in on the part of himself that did not feel like himself.

The part that felt like Voldemort.

 

Flashes of thought and impression flew through his conscience, _Darkness. Corruption. New. Splintered._

And then Harry felt pain as the part of him that was-and-was-not-Voldemort was probed by the presence.

_Strange. New. Delicious. Mine._

If he could have screamed Harry would have at the pain throughout his entire being as the part-of-Harry-that-was-Voldemort was ripped away by the being.

_Gratitude. Favor. Rebirth. Mundus. Enjoy._

And then there was a burst of light and Harry knew no more.

_Awaken child._

Harry bolted into an upright sitting position from where he had been laying in a slightly rocky patch of grass and gripped his head in pain. The new voice did not sound at all like the first. The new voice was like the pounding of drums and authority personified.

_Harald of another world, my cousin has brought you here without a second thought to your survival past arrival and for that I apologize. Thus I will give you my blessing and protection until you find your place in Nirn. Good luck child._

Unfortunately Harry could not take the time to feel comforted by these words, so overwhelming was the presence that the reverberation of the voice in his head caused him to pass out once more.

Harry finally awoke to a strange feeling of magic working over his body. Before he could blink his eyes open he heard a voice over his body.

“Oblivion take me, Restoration is not my school. Wake up child.” The voice harrumphed before continuing its muttering, “I need to know what you know about that burst of Magicka I sensed out here. I can tell you were at the center of it.”

The magic over his body felt different than the magic he was used to at Hogwarts. It felt wild, pure, and...as Harry was blinking awake and analyzing the magic he noticed the magic from the spell being used on him wasn't the only magic he could feel. Magic from all around him was flooding into his body and Harry had no idea how to control it.

More magic than he had ever had in his body was flowing through him and it needed a way out. And then he felt the dam burst. He screamed.

The mage trying to revive him jumped backwards and tossed up some sort of shield as lightning arced off of Harry's body. 

“By the Nine!” 

Harry did not register the strange curse as his body was wracked in pain, after a few moments he did however register the instructions the person began giving him.

“Boy! You are absorbing too much Magicka! Cut yourself off! Clear your mind and focus on shutting out the rest of the world! You have to cut yourself off from external sources!” 

The second time a version of those instructions were repeated they pierced Harry’s pained haze and he attempted to follow them.

It took several more agonizing moments, but Harry eventually succeeded. 

And then it took several minutes for Harry to find the ability to respond to the mage that had helped him in anymore than minor grunts.

Eventually the mage gave up on asking questions and offered Harry a water skin, “Here child, this should help you at least be able to tell me what happened.”


	2. Whiterun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO yeah this was dead for a while but I've been playing a bunch of ESO lately and bam inspiration came back.  
> I’ll be playing fast and loose with interpretations of ages and the 4th Era timeline because...well it’s a freaking mess. There are four contradictory sources on the age of King Torygg at his death alone in Skyrim. Plus I want to spread out the different plots A LOT.

Farengar was supremely puzzled by the boy he had brought back to recover in his suite in Dragonsreach. His amulet of Akatosh had suddenly begun violently shaking and burning with bright light the night before, almost as if the Divine were actually interacting with it. While not unheard of Farengar had never been the most devout and was certainly not a priest of Akatosh. It just made no sense to the middle-aged wizard. 

It was after the amulet had awoken him that he felt one of the strongest pulses of Magicka he had ever felt in his life and had gone to investigate. 

And there had been a child, well alright a mid-adolescent, passed out in the middle of a large circle of scorched earth. It was one of the strangest things he had ever seen.

And then he had experience the strangest thing he had ever heard, his amulet once again glowed and shook and a rumbling voice struck his mind, “Heyv. Spaan. Kiir. Saviik.” Somehow, despite the knowledge of the ancient Dragon Voice being jealously protected by the Greybeards, Farengar knew he was being tasked with protecting the child. 

It had been no easy task to get the boy inside the keep, Irileth had questioned Farengar extensively on why he was bringing a passed out child inside. That is when inspiration struck, he claimed the boy as his own. He claimed that when he had first finished his initial schooling in magic he had married a fellow mage, a Breton girl, but his research obsession was too much for even another mage and she had kicked him out and declared that he would never see her or his son again. 

Well he gets a letter saying she has died of illness and the boy was sick too but got over it, except he was severely weakened, Farengar explained that he had just gone and retrieved the boy from the carriage he had been sent to Whiterun in but the trip had further inflamed his exhaustion from the illness.

Unfortunately he had said this a bit too loudly and a bit too near the Jarl.

“You, Farengar? A father? Well get that boy into a bed and come back to tell us everything! Why I do believe this has shown me a whole new side of you!” Jarl Balgruuf let out a rumbling laugh and Farengar was thankfully allowed to go settle the boy in.

~Dovahkren~

Harry woke up and honestly for a few moments thought he was back in Hogwarts. He was certainly in a castle from the grey stone walls, the torch and candle lighting, and the high but oddly slanted ceiling. 

And yet he was not in the Hospital Wing, which is where he would expect to wake up after an ambush like that, and that worried him. So experimentally he tried to move and sit up and found that he was not restrained in the way he would expect if he had been abducted by the Death Eaters either. 

Further investigation of the room he was in yielded that yes indeed, he was in fact in a magical location, at the very least. Strange glowing crystals and odd artifacts littered the bookshelves and tables nearby.

It was when Harry was just about to walk over to the window and try to get a view of where he was that the door opened and a man in robes that differed greatly from those of Hogwarts walked in.

“Ah, you have finally awakened! I am Farengar Secret-Fire, court wizard of Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun, who may you be?” The wizard was trying mightily to be polite and calming for some reason, but Harry could tell the man was straining himself to do so and it likely was not his normal demeanor. 

“Umm...Harry...Harry...Potter.” Harry paused and waited for the inevitable reaction and then when nothing happened he continued, “Umm...could you tell me where on Earth I am?”

Farengar blinked at the strange phrase but answered nonetheless, “You're in Whiterun Hold.” When Harry did not seem to recognize the name and indeed seemed quite confused at it he continued, “In the Kingdom of Skyrim?”

That was when Harry knew something was wrong, “Kingdom?!? I've never heard of Whiterun, I didn't know there were any kingdoms left, and oh Merlin please please know where Britain is? Scotland? Europe?” 

The boy was grasping for straws and very obviously did not know where he was and Farengar himself knew of none of those places.

“Ah...calm down?” As the boy kept ramping himself up to a nervous breakdown Farengar decided to stop using his non-existent people skills and play to his strengths. He cast a very strong Calming spell on the boy who, possibly recognizing the feeling of a calming spell, did not fight it.

“Oh. Ok. Ok. Thanks. So umm...I am from a place called Britain and from what I gather you have never heard of it? And that's why you've got a funny not-quite-Norwegian accent?”

“No, I have not, that is probably the case, and I suppose so however I have no idea what a Norwegian is. It sounds similar to Nord though if that helps. The Nords are the humans of Skyrim, that is the name of the race. You appear to have the build and magical capabilities of a Breton or perhaps the Breton/Nordic hybrids of Markarth and the Reach. As well as this 'Britain' sounding like Breton. Do those names sound familiar at all?” Yes, Farengar found the boy much more manageable to hold a conversation with to get to the bottom of the situation while he was Calmed. 

“Oh that's...strange. Breton does sound like Britain.” The Calming was letting Harry's mind work without interference and he came to a startling conclusion, “The entire planet has been mapped. I've never heard of Skyrim in my magical or my muggle studies. I don't think this is the same world as mine.”

The older mage froze and ran the possibilities through his head, “With the realms of the Princes of Oblivion we know that other planes of existence are real of course, but I had never considered entire realms outside of Aurbis entirely that might have human life like Nirn.”   
Harry, numb but slowly coming back to himself nodded, “Yes. It was likely that the Veil of Death was actually a one way portal.”

It was unfortunately just after he stated this that the Calming spell began to wear off and Harry started feeling the panic return, “Wait, one way? I mean it was called the Veil of Death because no one came back sure. But it can’t be right? There has to be something! How can I get home? I can't stay here!”

Farengar sighed, “Considering I received a message that I believe to be from the dragon god Akatosh to protect you I don’t think that will be possible. I believe the message means that no only are you meant to be here, but that you are blessed by that Divine in particular. He likely facilitated your survival of this strange portal you mentioned.”

Harry put his head into his hands and groaned, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to react to this. I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to blow things up even!” 

A slight breeze moved through the room centering around Harry and Farengar immediately reached out to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “First take a deep breath and stop pulling in Magicka. I think your world had a lot less of it than ours does and you are not used to it coming so quickly and easily.

Truthfully the ease with which the boy pulled in Magicka scared and confused Farengar. He had only seen that kind of natural talent in Altmer and the most talented of Bretons. And while the boy definitely seemed built more like a Breton it was a scary prospect the talent he may have. He would have to teach the boy to control Tamrilic magic and then send him off to the College for further training quickly. He knew he was a useless teacher, he had no patience for any of the former pupils he had attempted to teach. 

It took a few minutes but Harry calmed down.

“Okay, okay. I’m breathing,” he turned his head up to look at Farengar, “So what am I going to do?”

Letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding Farengar explained, “I’m going to pass you off as my son with an estranged wife who recently died. That will be the easiest way to keep you close and take you as a temporary apprentice until you’ve learned what you need to get around Skyrim or even Tamriel as a whole.”

Harry nodded, though he was a little concerned, “So what will I need to learn?”

“Well from the sound of it I imagine about everything. I’ll focus a lot on the history and cultures of the area to start with though. Even with them thinking you to be half-Nord half-Breton and taking after your mother that wouldn’t explain how ignorant you are about everything involving this world. Almost as big a priority will be you controlling your magic. Nords are a relatively superstitious lot, mages who cannot control their abilities are not very well thought of.”

Harry groaned at the thought of so much learning. 

“Also I will be referring to you as Harald. Harry can be a familiar name for you to use with friends if you wish, but I am the court wizard of a Jarl, you will not be using a diminutive version of a name around court!” 

Oh joy, Harry thought, politics.


	3. Dragonsreach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked if they would understand things too much without having played Skyrim so I elaborated some of Harry’s lessons here. Which padded my word count a lot actually so thank you for the suggestion. Bonus- some of the lore here is purposefully wrong to show distortion of the truth of history over time, and the fights various academic schools of magic get into.

Mostly it appeared that Harry only had to recover his stamina from his little jaunt through the Veil of Death. This allowed Farengar to have him read books, basic primers on the races of Tamriel and the current nations and such. He learned that the world was considered to be in the one hundred and ninety-fifth year of its fourth era and that the region he was in right now was called Skyrim, which had just a few months earlier crowned a new High King, a young man known as Torygg.

While reading this Harry put down the book.

“Okay so I have a question?” He asked tentatively.

Farengar looked up from his own book, a giant dusty tome with a stylized dragon on the cover, after a moment and a raised eyebrow he prompted Harry to continue, “You do not have to wait, young Harald. Just ask.” 

“Uh...right. So how is Torygg a ‘High King’ if he is still below the emperor in...Cyradeal...Cyrodiil? Shouldn’t he be like...at best a normal king?” He continued sheepishly.

Farengar’s chosen method of teaching was asking questions back, and Harry hated it, “So who was the first emperor after the Interregnum? The Emperor of the Third Empire?”

This took Harry a moment before he remembered, “Oh! Tiberious Septim! No wait...just Tiber. But what does that have to do...oh. He’s revered as Talos here right? I guess he had a special connection with Skyrim and gave the High King special rights?”

Farengar nodded, “Or at least the right to retain the title. It’s unclear whether Tiber Septim was a Nord by birth, but he certainly trained under the Greybeards and was very popular in this country before he became Emperor. There are not any extremely clear historical accounts of the reasoning but the ruler of Skyrim never lost the title High King after Skyrim and the other members of the, by the point only very loosely allied, Ebonheart Pact slowly joined the new Empire.” 

“And all of these Emperors were...these uh...Dragonkin?”

Farengar shrugged, “Dragonborn, but yes supposedly all the truly legitimate Emperors were Dragonborn. Alessia was the first to have the Amulet of Kings, this is indisputable. It was also held by the Reman dynasty, also indisputable. And the fact that if a person of the incorrect bloodline attempted to use the Amulet the Dragonfires would be quenched is also very indisputable, as occurred when Varen Aquilarius attempted to use the Amulet after the death of the final Reman emperor.” 

Farengar was in full lecture mode, “And further indisputable is that Tiber Septim did have the power of the Voice, which uses the Dragon Tongue to cast powerful and unique magics. So the ability of he and his dynasty to use the Amulet to light the Dragonfires could be used as supporting evidence for the Dragonborn claim, though it could be that only the potential to learn the Voice is needed, we truly do not know how any of this works. It is even more difficult to study Dragonborn and the Voice than it is to study normal magic! Those damned stingy Greybears hoarding their knowledge!” 

Harry raised his hand which interrupted his new mentor’s digression.

“Ah, I was getting off topic, I am sorry Harald.” 

“Right…that was a lot of information. So Dragonfires?”

“Ah! Giant beacons connected to the Amulet of Kings and the souls of ancient emperors contained within that create a sort of symbolic resonance field that has the effect of keeping the pathways to the various realms of Oblivion, where the Daedric princes reside, closed as tightly as possible. Sure Daedric creatures can still be summoned and the avatars and wills of the Princes might get through the cracks, but it stops wholesale invasions such as the Oblivion Crisis from occurring.”

“Protection against demons, got it.”

“Is that what your world calls Daedra?”

“Umm...I guess? They are very similar. Evil creatures from another...oh Hermione could explain this so much better. I never really understood if those things were from another world or like...I think the word she used was plane? A different type of reality at least.”

“Ah yes that sounds quite similar, though luckily not all Daedra are pure evil. Some Princes are really only Daedra by default if I am being quite honest,” Farengar elaborated.

“For example Meridia is a strong advocate of the destruction of the undead and a foe of necromancy. Some believe she is a former Magna Ge, a type of astral being we associate with the creators of our universe while not being that creator, who wished to work more closely with the mortal realm. And Azura is historically quite interested in the wellbeing of her own followers and has interfered many times on the side of the Dunmer whom worshipped her, without committing all the heinous mass murder and outright world domination style warfare of many other Daedric Princes.”

It was at this point that Harry stood up and stretched, “I’m feeling really overwhelmed can we move on to magic, not using a wand is very strange. And I lost mine in the Veil I think so I need to learn your type of magic quickly.” 

Internally Harry was more than just a little overwhelmed, he was completely swamped and was trying to stuff all the knowledge of this new world into his head as quickly as possible to avoid thinking about how he was never going to see his friends again, how Voldemort was probably going to win, how worst of all maybe because he didn’t die in the Veil now Voldemort was truly immortal forever. 

“Very well, so first of all Magicka is what we draw into ourselves to cast Magic. Magicka leaks into Nirn through the sun and stars and infuse and inundate everything in this world. Even the air. You will naturally absorb Magicka in your body throughout the day and overtime, you can then use this to cast spells. This is also why the constellation signs at the height at your time of birth can effect how you interact with Magic. You said you were born in the seventh month on your world?”

A quick nod from Harry prompted him to continue.  
“Alright here that would be Sun’s Height and put you under the Apprentice sign. Which is fitting, as you seem to have a very heavy natural aptitude for Magicka generation. Quite frankly it is impressive. However there are ancient standing stones, sometimes called Mundus Stones, which can forcefully change which constellation you are synchronized to, the method of making these has been lost, but many place it before the First Empire, though some pointed to the widespread nature of the stones to put it during that period instead.” 

Seeing that Harry was following along he decided to continue.

“Now as we went over earlier, casting a spell is a pure force of will, and while you do have to understand the physical mechanics of what you are pushing the Magicka to do to get the Magicka to do it, you still need that clear visualization and purpose or it will never hold together. For targeted magics there is usually a gesture involved simply for the purpose of aiming, though sometimes it also aids in the focus. I would like you to try to pull some Magicka out of yourself and cast the simple Candlelight spell I showed you. You mentioned it was very similar to a spell from your home, so perhaps using that incantation might speed the process along, then you can later replicate it with pure will just from the memory of the sensation.”

Earlier Harry had only ever gotten a few sputtering flickers, it was very difficult to hold on to Magicka compared to the point-and-incant style of magic he originally learned. 

Taking a deep breath from his seat he set his book aside and began to focus. The strange feeling when he got emotional, almost as if his body opened up to a flood of water, but the water was also inside and trying to escape at the same time slowly came back, much more controlled this time. He imagined the ball of light, he imagined the Magicka seeping up and pooling in his hands, he imagined it lifting out in a perfect sphere of white energy and…

“Lumos!” 

When he opened his eyes a weak, but very obviously intact, ball of light hovered a few inches above his hand.


	4. Jorrvaskr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is going to pick up next chapter, where Harry will have his first true Adventure in Skyrim. For now though Harry needs to get his skills up to par.  
> Again remember this is a few years before the Dragon War and some of the canon events. So some characters will act or outright be younger.  
> Also I do not own some of this dialogue during the training bit, Ria and Vilkas’s training dialogue it too funny not to include.

Chapter 3: Jorrvaskr 

It was not more than a few weeks before Farengar started making strides to break Harry out of his reclusive nature. He reasoned that one of the best ways for Harry to acclimate to the new world would be to get him to connect with the people around him and form new bonds.

The first steps were getting him to attend dinners in the Great Hall most evenings, as well as sending him off for extra lessons with notable practitioners in Whiterun whom owed Farengar small favors. This of course meant that Farengar had to start attending more of those dinners as well, he was notoriously forgetful of the timing if he was consumed in a research project as he very often was. Danica Pure-Spring of the Temple of Kynareth was tutoring Harry on the finer points of Restoration magic, as his skill with ward spells bore exploring; as well as the alchemist Arcadia who was tutoring Harry in the completely different potion making skill of Nirn. 

So even as he made great strides in learning the magic of Nirn and sometimes recreating old spells using this new method of magic, Harry was beginning to make small strides in truly belonging to this new world.

It only took a few dinners for Jarl Balgruuf’s twin toddlers, Frothar and Dagny, to become fascinated with the sullen newcomer with the funny scar on his forehead. They were already at merely three years of age quite spoiled and used to getting what they wanted, so when Harry originally did not want to humor them and become their new playmate they became quite wroth and determined. 

Luckily they were still young enough that their methods of play were with small toys and games of hide and seek as opposed to finding a wooden training sword and smacking him with it, something Harry would not have found amusing at all. 

After two days of hounding Harry did finally give in and began playing a game of hide and seek with the children every few days, and he would often show them “twicks” as they asked for with his magic. They enjoyed anything with bright lights and the small ethereal wolf Harry had recently learned to cast from the Conjuration school. The wolf was fully at Harry’s command so it would let them pat its strangely textured spiritual “fur” for the entire duration it was summoned. Though Harry did draw the line at trying to ride it, calling it very dangerous. 

It was at another of these dinners in the Great Hall that Harry’s fate would change for the better, a chance encounter would give Harry a whole new set of skills to explore and put him in contact with more potential friends and allies.

Kodlak Whitemane had been asked to attend this night by the Jarl and discussion between the two was lively.

“Are you sure there is nothing that can be done about this? This stand-off between the Battleborns and Gray-manes is destroying any sense of unison the city may have had after Ulfric returned to Windhelm and started his band of malcontents,” the Jarl pleaded.

The grizzled old warrior, Kodlak, shook his head, “I am afraid not young jarl, I’ve spoken to both Vignar and Eorlund. They do not believe reconciliation possible as long as this rebellion continues. And of course whichever side wins the losers will not take it well either.”

The Jarl groaned and put his face into his palms, “Can they at least be convinced not to continue escalating things and rabble rousing?”

“Nay, I think it will escalate again quite soon. Young Thorald is speaking of running off to join the damned Stormcloaks!”

This declaration was met with grim shock by all at the Jarl’s high table. 

“Surely his family would not allow that kind of madness?” Irileth questioned, “That kind of folly would surely set this off as well as a giant stepping on a shock rune! I can only imagine the response should the fool fall in battle!” 

Balgruuf huffed, “Aye, that is indeed a foul prospect. Bah, I suppose there is naught more we can do about this for now.”

“I apologize for not being the bearer of better news my Jarl.” 

Kodlak finished his mutton and then looked around at the Hall. 

“I see we have a new face since my last dinner in Dragonsreach! Who is this strapping young lad? He’s sitting next to you so is he yours Farengar?”

Now if there was one thing Harry hated it was attention while he was not currently distracted by a task, such as with Quidditch, the attention there didn’t matter once he got moving. Luckily Farengar reacted quickly.

“Yes, Harbinger, this is my son, Harald. His mother, my estranged wife, passed a few months back and he has come here to live with me and also apprentice, he has the talents to become quite a mage. Though some of the little adventures he’s had have me thinking he will not be content to be academic about it,” Farengar replied, almost smug about deflecting the conversation onto Harry’s past deeds so that the boy would have to speak.

“Oh? Well my boy you must tell us some of these tales! Say, have you ever held a sword?” The old man was part curious but also part humoring Farengar. The boy looked a bit on the scrawny side so the deeds could not have been too heroic.

Luckily for Harry he and Farengar had worked both on his backstory of being raised outside of Camlorn in the Glenumbra region of High Rock and they had also gone over how to tweak some of his life story to fit that.

However Harry did not expect Farengar to throw him under the Night Bus with it so soon.

“Ah, well yes I have, only once though,” Kodlak’s raised eyebrow caused him to continue, “There was an umm...alchemically mutated giant snake terrorizing some villages near Camlorn where I grew up. Well my mother had a way of tracking it and the adventurer from the Glenumbra branch of the Fighter’s Guild was absolutely awful at magic, could not even activate the artifact, so I had to go along with him.” 

“How large was this magical snake?” Kodlak inquired.

“Well you see sir, we were basing our guesses on the shed skin. So we thought it was only two or three horses long. But the skins we saw were a lot older than we thought. We reached the cave the beast was hidden in and it was truly enormous. Coiled up I would say it was the size of one of your mammoths!” 

“Truly? That is indeed quite the monstrosity!” 

“So this knight jumps in and starts fighting the beast immediately, hoping to catch it sleeping I suppose, but in all that armor he wasn’t very quiet. I started casting some minor supporting magic, you know hitting the snake with a few bolts of lightning, throwing rocks, basic things. It’s then that the snake shows that its size wasn’t the only magical thing about it! Apparently it could cast a mild paralysis spell through its eyes! The knight, Sir Lockert or somesuch I believe, looked up into it after a few blows and just freezes mid swing and the sword’s momentum sends it flying away!” 

Now the audience was riveted. 

“He’s able to slowly get out two words, ‘the eyes’, and I sort of got what he meant. So I cast this giant overpowered candlelight spell right in the beasts eyes to force it to blind itself for a bit and make a run to get the sword back to Sir Lockert. Obviously I made far too much noice because as I’m picking up the sword the snake turns to face me, luckily eyes still closed, I pour the last of my Magicka into what was up till that point the largest lightning blast of my life and the thing only seems to get angry! It lunges at me and with nothing else to do I just hold the sword up and the stupid beast impales itself on the blade right through the roof of its mouth into the brain!”

There was a moment of stunned silence from the audience before a massive bellowing laugh came out of the old Harbinger.

“Now that is some tale my boy! And you came out of it completely unharmed having upstaged that knight?”

Harry frowned and bit his lip, “Well no sir...ah Harbinger, when the snake lunged it got me with one of its fangs, pumped me all full of venom. If my mother hadn’t brewed her strongest anti-venom potions for us before hand I likely would have died! I still have the scar on my arm.”

At this Kodlak grinned, “Well a battle scar is nothing to be ashamed of lad, show us where this beastie got ya!” 

At this Harry rolled up his sleeve and showed off the jagged circle almost the size of a Septim to the table.

Jarl Balgruuf let out a low whistle, “Well boy that was certainly quite some beast you slew. I admit I doubted the size until I saw that scar.”

Kodlak on the otherhand slapped his hand on the boys shoulder, “Well done young Harald! That was quite the tale! Say Farengar what say you the boy comes by Jorrvaskr to do some weapons training with our new recruits and trainees! We’ve got two new boys a bit older than him and a girl around his age who is training up herself! We’ll turn him into a proper battlemage instead of one of you stuffy old book types!”

Farengar smiled and turned to Harry, “Well if that is what he wants. I think that would be quite beneficial with the amount of trouble he gets himself in to learn how to fight off threats with more than just magicka.” 

After a few moments of consideration Harry nodded, “Yeah, I would love that. I think that could be great!” 

And so the next day Harry was at the doors of Jorrvaskr bright and early. He was let in by a kind old woman.

“Oh you must be the boy Kodlak was so excited about, come in come in, they are just finishing breakfast!”

Breakfast apparently was actually already finished and the post-breakfast show was going on. A dark elf man and a Nord woman were having an all out brawl to the side of one of the long tables. 

The other Companions appeared split between ignoring this fight and egging it on. 

“Use the chair, use the chair!” screamed an older balding man, whose race Harry couldn’t place.

The dark elf attempted to oblige him but when he picked up a chair the Nord woman punched it into pieces and picked up a leg to knock him out over the head ending the fight.

There were some moans, some cheers, and some money exchanged hands.

That’s when Harry spoke up, “Umm...does he need help? I know some healing spells?”

Kodlak was the first to stand up to greet him, “Ah Harald, my boy, you’re here bright and early. Wonderful! Athis will wake up in a bit, he and Njada are always getting into little tussles. Builds character!” 

The man was full of vigor and life for someone his age and pulled Harry along through a whirlwind of introductions.

“And finally these are the ones you will be training with! Farkas and Vilkas are our two newest members and their job will be running you and your fellow trainee, Ria, through your paces.”

Harry looked the two burly Nords over and it was obvious that they were brothers. While one seemed to favor the sword and shield and the other two handed weapons they had many of the same facial features and though one attempted to keep it under control, the same bushy textured hair. 

Ria seemed to actually be an Imperial instead of a Nord, as many of the Companions seemed to be, though Harry was still unsure of the exact distinction except when presented with the biggest and burliest of Nords and the slimmest and most refined of Imperials. Or a Breton actively casting high powered magic for that matter. Still she seemed much slimmer and softer in build than the Nordic women he had seen, though she certainly tried to offset that with fierce face war paints.

“Well, I will be training them you mean. From Kodlak’s version of your tale it sounds like you, Harald, will want to train in the long blade to use it similar to a spellsword or Imperial Battlemage am I right?” The less wild looking Vilkas more stated than asked.

Harry nodded, “That sounds about right.” 

“Then let’s move this outside!”

Once outside Ria spoke up, “Why can't I train with Aela?"

"Because, you wanted to learn the longer blades. Aela's never used anything bigger than a dagger,” Vilkas responded with a roll of his eyes.

“It's just...I think our fighting styles are similar."

"Well, you can either get better with a bow or try to learn from me,” which ended any discussion on Ria’s end from there.

As Vilkas began showing them how to hold the longsword they were training with Harry spoke up with a question, “Wait so I should be putting my feet how?”

“A little further apart, Harald. And move that left one back a bit.” 

Harry nodded and complied. He had a hard time not reverting to the dueling stance for wanded magic duels, but he knew that that almost fencer like pose was going to be no use at all here. 

At least he wasn’t the only one with questions, Ria had some as well, "Should I be holding the blade further away than a smaller one?"

“If you keep it in close, you’ll have more control, but it can be harder to balance a strike.”

Harry decided to keep this in mind and moved his sword a little closer to himself as well, but not too far.

“I guess that comes down to footwork, then,” Ria observed.

Vilkas nodded, “Exactly. When you have a big, heavy weight swinging around your upper body, your lower body has to compensate, or you’ll fall right over!”

“Well I definitely don’t want that, I already feel like I am making enough of a fool out of myself as I am!” Harry interjected, to a bit of laughter from both his mentor and his fellow trainee.

“Don’t worry about it, we all looked damned fools our first times holding swords. Especially my brother, Farkas!” Vilkas wasn’t one to pass up cheap shots at his brother. 

After about another half hour of footwork and basic swings Ria hit a knot of frustration, “Uggh! It just feels so slow!” 

Vilkas turned to help her and began explaining, “It will feel that way for a while. But eventually you’ll get used to it, and then you’ll get faster with it. After that, the shortsword will feel like a knitting needle when you pick it up again.”

Ria hit Vilkas with a withering glare, “I’ve never held a knitting needle.”

Harry had to lower his sword a bit to cover his laughter with a hand.

Vilkas’s backpedalling was quite amusing, “Ah, of course not. My mistake.”

Things continued along this vein for the rest of the morning, Vilkas showing them how to wave their new sharp implements around, and Harry and Ria attempting to replicate it, though often not quite getting it right. With laughter and quips from all sides it had quite the air of easy camaraderie. 

Harry went home for lunch happier and more fulfilled than he had in a while, though he had to dump most of his magicka into casting Healing on his muscles to ease the ache it was still a good ache.


End file.
